


Respite

by GlyphArchive



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, Huddling For Warmth, POV Female Character, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 19:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20729444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlyphArchive/pseuds/GlyphArchive
Summary: Training simulations emulate everything from the sting of an enemy's blows to changes in the weather. Getting stuck in the elements is only a minor inconvenience, but it's better to be safe rather than sorry.





	Respite

It's freezing cold now that the rain has started. It's worse because her mystic code gets soaked through in a matter of minutes. The Mage's Association hadn't really intended for their uniform to be compatible with _all_ environments after all; it soon becomes a hassle to move around in as this last battle wears on and her commands have to be shouted so that Ashwatthama can hear over the thunder.

Or maybe he's humoring her by letting her frustrations slide. She doesn't _think_ he is, because in all their few interactions Ashwatthama has always said what he felt before anything else; regardless of who or what it hurt or irritated. Nothing about him gives an air of patience and part if her suspects this is a chance for him to let loose more than usual.

But it's his keen sight that finds the cave - deep enough that a full party of Servants might have fit. Cavernous, for just the two of them.

As she wrings her hair out she decides that she doesn't really mind. The singularity has already been resolved in this era, this entire process just a way to get used to one another in case of another loss.

_(in case another master dies, sudden and unpleasantly; leaving the rest to fill in the gap)_

"Regrettin' not bringin' in somebody else?" Steam rises from Ashwatthama's form and the air around him smells oven-hot; practically arid where everything else is saturated. Some of the red has already bled from his eyes, leaving them more gold than green. The gem in his forehead still glows, making his shadowed features seem more than human.

"Nah." She tells him, picking a spot towards the back of the cave to settle down and stripping off her shoes. "The rain'll keep going for a while. But there's nothing you can't beat," she adds in with a lazy smile that's more exhaustion than cheer. "So I'm not worried."

Maybe those words have an effect on him. Maybe not. It's impossible to tell in the dark but she can hear his irritated huff clearly.

"Shouldn't have too much faith in one person." Ashwatthama grouses, propping his chakram up between them and the cave's entrance. It's not a perfect deterrent, but without Rama or Krishna here there is no one capable of budging the weapon but him. And anyone who tries to _crawl_ through will likely have a nasty surprise, if the myriad of weapons contained within chose to thrust inward instead of out.

She wouldn't be surprised if such a thing were possible, to be honest.

"Hey." He pauses when she reaches out, material of his gauntlet impossibly warm under her palm. "Let's get some sleep."

His expression twisted, brow furrowing under the mess of his hair. He looked _doubtful_, as though the idea of anyone wanting to sleep near him was outrageous. 

"Don't need ta sleep." Ashwatthama pointed out gruffly, but he didn't shake her off just yet. "Ya know that, don't ya?"

"Couldn't hurt." She tells him with a shrug, tugging on his arm until he gives in. With her back against the rock of the wall Ashwatthama has the whole floor to stretch out; yet settles close enough that she can feel the immense heat rising from his body. When she inches closer, laying her forehead on him with a sigh, he stiffens. 

"What's the big idea?" He grumbles, glaring down at the top of her head; still as the rock beneath them as she starts to drift off.

"M'cold." She hums, wondering if he'd jerk away if she hugged him. "And wet. You're a furnace and I'll probably dry off faster if I stay close to you."

The low grumble of his voice is difficult to focus on, now that she's so tired. But a heavy palm nudges the back of her skull and Ashwatthama lets her curl up against him like a sodden kitten.

"Don't get used to it." He huffs.

She only breathes, fast asleep and alive.


End file.
